


Where We Begin

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood-centric, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor Magnus Bane, Driving, Established Relationship, Introspection, Lawyer Alec Lightwood, M/M, Mundane Magnus Bane/Mundane Alec Lightwood, Tired Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:14:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: After a minute or two, he shakes his head and reaches for the coffee in his cup holder. He takes a bolstering sip before setting it down and wrapping a hand around the gear stick and shifting, punching the gas as he changes into the fast lane.He has places to be and someone to see.Looking at the clock, he sees that it’s just before midnight. Halfway there. He drives with singular focus, everything in him just wanting to reach his destination. Home.





	Where We Begin

He drives.

Streetlights cast shadows over his face, emphasizing the stubble, making him look dark, a little dangerous. His eyes are bleary, red-rimmed. He’s been driving for three hours after a grueling fourteen hour day at the office. His mind automatically plays through the case that’s captured his attention. He thinks distantly of legalities and criminal law procedures and a client who’s most likely guilty but whom he’ll defend anyway because it’s his job and he loves the game of it.

After a minute or two, realizing what he’s doing, he shakes his head and reaches for the coffee in his cup holder. He takes a bolstering sip before setting it down and wrapping a hand around the gear stick and shifting, punching the gas as he changes into the fast lane.

He has places to be and someone to see.

Looking at the clock, he sees that it’s just before midnight. _Halfway there_.

The AC is blasting, keeping him awake and the radio is a muted murmur. He’s put one of his favorite playlists on shuffle, the same set of songs he listens to every time he makes this drive. He’s made it a dozen times and thankfully, will only need to make it another few.

The past year has been hectic and stressful and lonely more often than not. But, it’s worth it. They’ll be back together, permanently, soon enough. They’ve lived apart for eleven months but in a few weeks, his love will be finished with his residency and already has a job lined up back home.

He sings along to the current song. It’s slow and the sentiment sets his chest aching. He remembers the first time he listened to it, tipsy and just falling in love. He remembers a hotel room washed in neon lights and stunned tenderness.

It brings a smile to his face, almost five years later. He drives deserted highways, going just a hair too fast, feeling his car thrum with power as it hugs curves and accelerates on straightaways.

He thinks of brown eyes and soft smiles and the spedometer climbs higher. He can’t help but think, _I want to be home_. Home isn’t their loft in Brooklyn. It’s the man himself. 

Two hours to go.

He blinks slow, lingering for just a second. Exhaustion is riding him hard. He’s on the path to make partner in just a few years but in the interim, his slate is full to bursting. He works eighty hours a week and every month he makes this trip, carving out forty eight hours just for them. He’ll be back at the office bright and early Monday morning but until then his thoughts are filled with one man and two days of bliss.

It’s enough. It has to be, just for a little while longer.

His hands tap on the steering wheel. It’s a droning rhythm but enough to keep him awake. It’s August and the humidity is enough that five minutes outside would have him drenched. It’s fogging up his windshield and he turns on defrosters, taking another sip of cold coffee.

Up ahead he sees flashing lights and orange barrels. With barely a thought, he switches lanes and keeps going at a cool eighty miles an hour. There are no other cars and he cruises through the construction zone, keeping an eye out for an errant cop, for a possible speed trap.

He turns the stereo up, way up until he feels the bass in his chest and the music makes his heart ache. He drives on autopilot. It’s the middle of the night and he goes long stretches in the dark, the intermittent street lamps the only light. He goes miles without seeing another car and likes the feeling of isolation.

It’s like he’s the only person in the world, driving towards a destination, heading towards the most important person in his life.

One hour.

The music doesn’t let him think. It fills his head but plants images-- a soft morning, a laughing face, a lingering kiss. It’s been three weeks since he last saw his love and it feels like a lifetime. It’s been long hours of pouring over court briefs and drinking too many cups of stale coffee, and making due with hurried minutes of facetime before one of them has to rush off for work.

They’re both just starting their careers and he knows it’ll be a long road but that doesn’t mean he has to like it, that it doesn’t sometimes fill him with bitterness and longing and a desperate yearning for a simpler time, a time when they were undergrads and their biggest worry was whether they could afford that bottle of vodka or if they were going to finish their lit paper before the deadline.

They’re in their mid-twenties now and his whole life stretches before him, richer than he could’ve imagined. He makes this trip but it’s hardly a sacrifice-- not when he knows what’s waiting for him. He pays his bills and makes sure the loft is neat and tidy and all the while his heart is here, six hours away.

He passes a street sign that finally has the miles to his destination in the single digits. He’s not even aware of the burst of speed that pushes him tenuously close to ninety. There’s only a few miles of highway left before his exit and as he looks down at the clock, relief sweeps through him.

A meager thirty minutes is all that stands between him and home.

He swipes his turn signal, changing lanes, and tapping impatiently at the steering wheel.

He gets off after a couple of miles, finally hitting his brakes for the first time in hours. He rolls to a stop at the red light, bites his lip as he thinks about this weekend.

He thinks about the little box in his travel bag, lined in velvet and holding something infinitely precious.

It’s only a month until they’ll be back in the same city and he imagines tomorrow-- well, later today. He thinks of sleeping in and waking up in those arms he loves so much, feeling at peace for the first time all month.

He thinks about later tonight, after they have dinner and maybe go miniature golfing. He thinks about taking his love to their favorite park and getting down on one knee.

He thinks about the next chapter of their lives.

He smiles, giddy. It’s probably a combination of fatigue and his mile-wide romantic streak but he’s indescribably excited.

He drives through empty roads, passing townhouses and gas stations whose bright lights hurt his eyes after so long on a dim journey.

He squints as he makes a turn, the hospital coming into view.

He pulls up to the ER entrance and parks. Looking at his clock, he sees that he just has a few more minutes to go.

The last notes of the song die down, filling him with a double tinged feeling-- nostalgia and yearning and a bated breathlessness that’s never died down, even after all this time.

When the song ends, he turns off the car and sits for a minute in total silence, soaking in this feeling. He climbs out of the car, goes around to the passenger side and leans against the door.

He has a minute and takes a deep breath before he hears the automatic doors whoosh open. He looks up and that breath is knocked from his chest as he sees his boyfriend-- by the end of this weekend, hopefully his fiance.

The man comes out of the ER looking exhausted himself after pulling a double shift. It’s three in the morning and he just wants a bed. His scrubs are wrinkled and he looks pale from fatigue.

He comes to a stop as soon as he passes the doors and sees the man leaning against the car. 

There’s a moment where the two of them just stand, a dozen feet apart, and share a look that would stun any passerby.

But in the next minute, he’s shaking his head and walking towards the car with a soft smile and dark eyes.

When he’s within range, he extends his arms, wrapping them around his love’s shoulders and pressing infinitely close.

“Darling,” he murmurs, heated words against his neck. “How I’ve missed you.”

The two of them sink into each other, soaking up the affection and love that’s vibrating between them. Distantly, they both think about how good it feels to be home.

One of them wonders what the answer to his question this weekend will be. The other thinks hazily that this is where he wants to be, forever.

After a minute or two, they break apart, before coming back together and kissing. It’s soft and lush and slow. A meeting, a spark of recognition and _knowing_.

The man shoves himself away from the door, opening it and ushering his boyfriend in. He walks around and climbs into the driver’s seat.

Exhaustion is still pulling at him but there’s an undercurrent of restless energy now that he’s with his love. It’ll disappear by the time they get back to the apartment and settle in bed wrapped around each other, but for now it’s enough.

He starts the ignition, reaching over and taking his boyfriend’s hand, bringing it up to his lips for a gentle kiss.

He pulls away from the curb and drives streets that have become familiar.

The street lights cast shadows over his face and his passenger watches him with fondness and a hint of disbelief. He’s always surprising him.

He drives, safe in the knowledge that this is where he’s supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr @carmenlire :)


End file.
